


You Don't Have to Believe

by Revenge_Hurts



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Don't Have to Believe to Inspire, Older Sibling, children of burgess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 03:43:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15234591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Revenge_Hurts/pseuds/Revenge_Hurts
Summary: Because the fact of the matter was, even if you didn’t believe, if you’d simply grown out of it or if you never really had at all, you wouldn’t just watch as everyone else slowly loses it - especially little children. Parents, aunts, uncles, older siblings . . . they wouldn’t just sit idly by as their sons, daughters, nieces, nephews, little sisters and brothers, lost their innocence and their dreams, their hope and their wonder, their memories of better times, their joy.





	You Don't Have to Believe

Because the fact of the matter was, even if you didn’t believe, if you’d simply grown out of it or if you never really had at all, you wouldn’t just watch as everyone else slowly loses that - especially little children. Parents, aunts, uncles, older siblings . . . they wouldn’t just sit idly by as their sons, daughters, nieces, nephews, little sisters and brothers, lost their innocence and their dreams, their hope and their wonder, their memories of better times, their joy. 

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The children of Burgess were tired and cold and very steadily losing hope. Even as late into the morning of Easter as it was, there wasn’t a single egg to be found. This might not seem very out of place as no hunt had been specifically planned by any of the parents or older residents of the town despite the banner saying otherwise, however, for years - as far back as anyone could remember really - there had always been eggs to find. No one put them there, no one planned them, it was just how it worked. On Easter day in Burgess, there would always be eggs for the kids. Except, this year, there weren’t any. And they had looked. 

All the usual places were scoured, yes, bushes and flower beds, tree branches and tall grass - nothing. They looked harder, tried more creative spots: drain pipes and tree holes, under porches and on roofs. They looked as deep into the surrounding woods as their parents would let them, and then some. There were just. No. Eggs. and if there were no eggs, then there was no person who put them there, and if there was no person who put them there, then there was no Easter Bunny (for if he was real, he would be there).

At this, Bunny desperately bounded onto the scene all but pleading with the children that he was real, that he was just a bit late. 

“I mean, these aren’t my best-looking googies, but they’ll do in a pinch,” his smile was equal parts anxious and frantic. His nerves were stretched and frayed to the point of breaking and he was studiously ignoring the possibility that was becoming more and more plausible. His audience, however, the young girl just barely holding onto belief and the little boy who had already all but given it up - they were hardly moved. 

“I don’t believe it.” The words were muttered so despondently, so hopelessly, but Bunny still refused to acknowledge what was happening. 

He laughed without humor, the sound frenzied and sharp, “I know-”, but the girl continued on, cutting off his panicked jumble of words, letting go of that final shred of belief that was so strong only the day before.

“There’s no such thing as the Easter Bunny.” And with those words, Bunny felt the last of his own hope shatter. His smile, as painful and edged as it was, vanished and he could feel himself becoming more and more hysterical. But it didn’t matter because it was done. They - they didn’t believe in him anymore. They gave up on him.

“Hey!” The sharp noise cut through his sorrowful musings and the slow walk of the two kids who had since slowly started back to their homes, still mourning the loss of Easter and the one who was said to bring it. They all turned, as well as several of the other children who had likewise given up earlier, but were still close enough to hear, still desperate enough to latch onto anything to distract them from their holiday grief. The owner of the loud voice was young, though still much older than all the little ones who came out for the hunt. She was in her teens and even bundled up in the ridiculous amount of layers humans require to stay warm in the winter, she looked fierce. She planted her hands on her hips and stared down the little girl who had just made the declaration that had crushed Bunny’s spirit.

“What in the world are you talking about? Of course the Easter Bunny’s real, who was stupid enough to tell you otherwise?” Her tone was harsh and accusatory, but it was the words themselves that gave everyone pause. The kids nearby all turned fully to look at her at this, their lost belief not refound, but nearer than it was before. Bunny, however, was having a different dilemma, staring at the girl as if she would either vanish as if from his imagination or laugh at the joke she was pulling on the children. She was certainly not a believer, aside from the fact that she was at an age too old for those but one or two he’d ever heard of to believe, she also was lacking that subtle glow of hope and belief that came when one knew there were spirits like him and the other Guardians looking out for them. But, still. She was reaffirming him. Why? He felt a slight shift behind him as the other Guardians arrived and noticed the scene before them: the lack of belief in the children and the little girl standing in the middle of it.

With a great sniffle as she wiped her nose, runny from both the cold and the tears she had shed upon her revelation, the child met the eyes of her accuser as well. 

“No one had to, it’s easy to figure out for yourself; we all have,” she swept an arm around to gesture at all the other children whose baskets lay barren and empty. A few nodded along, the rest just looked miserably around, noting the distinct lack of eggs anywhere and a fluffy bunny shape that was nowhere to be found. “He didn’t come. If he was real, he would have come! He would have brought eggs to find and fun and things wouldn’t be so . . . “ She trailed off, but around her, there were murmurs of agreement. The kids were scared, Pitch had done his job well and without even Easter as a break from the brittle apathy he had forced them under, they had lost all their hope. They couldn’t care enough anymore to believe. 

Bunny felt his ears droop and his fists curl tighter. He had failed. Easter was about new life, new beginnings. It was about hope. And these children had lost all that. He couldn’t even stop Pitch enough to do his own damn job. And all these kids were suffering because of it. Because of him.

Upon hearing the youth’s words, the teen’s stance softened and she rolled her eyes.   
“Seriously you guys? You’re giving up on the Easter Bunny because he’s a little late. How many years have you been doing hunts? How many years has he brought you eggs and chocolate and fun? And you’re going to stop believing entirely at the first sign of trouble? Come on! He probably just slept in a little, I mean, how many times have you guys slept past your alarms? Quite a few, I’d say. I know for a fact you do so on a regular basis Johnny.” At this, she gave a pointed look to the little boy behind the girl she was talking to who, in turn, gave a sheepish smile and shuffled his feet a bit. 

Looking around at all the faces watching the proceedings, Bunny realized that it was working. The kids were starting to look at her with hope in their eyes, their belief so close to returned he could almost see it. A few even giggled at the last remark, shedding some of the darkness Pitch had implanted on them. More and more little faces had come to see what everyone has crowded around, and they were all watching as a nonbeliever reassured their faith in the Easter Bunny. In him. 

“The guy has done this every year without fail, and he doesn’t just do it here! He has Easter egg hunts all around the world he has to get to. And he probably has to work for hours and hours a day for months getting ready, I mean, seriously - eggs? They don’t keep well. He would have to work nonstop until right after Easter’s over, all to bring you rascals a little treat. And you’re just going to give up on him? Give the guy a break! He’s allowed to sleep in one year without everyone going and deciding he’s not real. In fact, he’s probably hiding his eggs right now, as we speak, catching up on lost time.”

At this Bunny jolted into action. She was right! Just because they couldn’t see him right now, doesn’t mean that he didn’t still have a job to do, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to see it through, believers or no. As he started filling the grass and flowers and trees nearby, he heard her continue.

“You know what, I should call the Easter Bunny right now and tell him not to come. Tell him that you all decided he wasn’t real so he shouldn’t have to bother himself to do anything nice for you.”

Gasps were heard all around the clearing as kids, belief slowly but surely returning, paled at the thought of losing another chance at Easter.

“NO!”

“Wait, please!”

“We didn’t -”

“Don’t, it wasn’t -”

“You have the Easter Bunny’s number?”

Silence once again filled the crowd as they all waited to hear the answer. The teen, clearly expecting this reaction casually told the group, “Of course I do, actually, me and him? We’re super close. In fact, I help him with his hunts every year when he’s too overwhelmed with everything. So I take it very personally that you gave up on him so easily, and if I call, he’ll definitely listen to me.”

Bunny snorted at this revelation. Ha, as if he would ever need help preparing for his own holiday. He invented Easter, and he’s been managing just fine on his own for ages, thank you very much. Or he was, he paused in placing an egg between two yellow tulips, but now, now he was- he wasn’t believed in because he didn’t get the job done. The were extenuating circumstances, but still. He didn’t complete his job, and that was on him.

Protests once again shook the clearing, but the teen cut them all off, raising a hand and shouting, “Alright! Okay, fine. Now go check again, see if you can find some now, although they might be hidden pretty well because I’d be a bit mad too if everyone doubted my ability to do my job.”

The kids all took off with a great cheer, still a bit weary, but so so ready to believe with all their little heart that he was real. While the kids backs were turned and their faces pressed in the bushes looking for eggs to find, Bunny watched with a grateful heart as the teen fished out a few, cheap, plastic eggs - all monochromatic ghastly things in neon colors, probably filled with a piece or two of cheap, processed candy - but eggs nonetheless and quickly toss them into places the kids weren’t looking before moving to a different location and doing the same thing.

After a few moments, cheers went up all throughout the clearing as the kids found both his little googies and the much easier to spot teen’s. She just laughed and marveled with them at how fast the Easter Bunny was, for none of them had seen him hide the eggs, and the certainly hadn’t been there before. 

Although he watched from a little ways off to the side, it wasn’t very long until some of the kids spotted Bunny and immediately a cheer went up from the cluster of children as they all rushed to meet him and assure him that they had never doubted him for a second. He snorted, little show ponies, the lot of them. 

The teen smiled gently at the scene before turning to go back home, her work done. As she walked back the way she came, however, she paused to consider one of Bunny’s eggs as she hadn’t seen anyone put any eggs in the hunt, but they were most assuredly not hers. She shrugged it off after a moment but slipped the little thing into her pocket as a souvenir of sorts.

Bunny smiled softly at her from where he was being smothered by dozens of little ankle biters, all clamoring for his attention. He wouldn’t forget what she had done, nor what she had reminded him of. He had forgotten, but he wouldn’t again.

For all he and the other spirits and myths, and not just the guardians either, fought to protect and nurture children, sometimes they forgot that they weren’t the only ones. Others did too, in their own special ways: parents and siblings and aunts and uncles, they all were guardians in their own right too. And most importantly, even if they didn’t believe, even if they thought they were nothing more than stories; well, you don’t have to be a believer to show someone else how to believe.

**Author's Note:**

> It's not very clear in the story, but the teen is Johnny's older sister who had seen how sad and anxious all the kids had gotten lately and wasn't about to let them give up what happiness that still clung to because they didn't find any Easter eggs. She saw it as her duty as an older sibling to protect her little brother, and his innocence, even from himself and his easily swayed belief.


End file.
